Dreams with Wolves
by KKeeper808
Summary: Finally the time has come to bring the fight to the Daedric Prince Hircine and his wolf followers. Cry Silverworthy has been standing beside Kodlak Whitemane is this battle, but how long will she stand beside him when the lives of her Companions are threatened by the Daedric Prince himself? (I Dun't Own Elder Scrolls V)
1. Chapter 1

**I'M BA-AA-ACK! **

**Did ya miss me?**

**HEEHEE.**

**Ahem, sorry. **

**Anyway, I have returned from my vacation of sorts! YEAH. YEAH.**

**So, yes, here I am. With a new story! A chaptered story! Whoo-hoo!**

**Hope ya enjoy the first chapter!**

* * *

The howling all around her practically ruptured Cry's eardrums as she ran through the red tinted forest, dodging trees and brush as best as she could while keeping her great sword in front of her, prepared for anything.

She was met by that anything when she paused briefly as the howling abruptly stopped. She gazes around her, peering into the trees for the threat she knew was lurking within the blood stained forest.

Suddenly, a black shape jumped from the tress and knocked her to the ground, saliva dripping from its jowls as the wolf snarled down at her.

Cry growled back and kicked her legs out with as much force as she could, flinging the beast off of her into the bushes nearby. It reappeared almost at once and leaped out once more. The Companion rolled out of the way just in time, the wolf landing in the undergrowth where she had just been lying.

Cry scrambled to her feet and stood, panting, sword held out in front of her. The wolf spun to face her, gray eyes glinting as the two circled one another. Its teeth were bared in a silent snarl, daring her to try something.

However, at a second glance at the wolf's eyes, Cry had stiffened, and a laugh reached her ears as the wolf suddenly stood on its hind legs and began to morph before her eyes, turning into the familiar stag-skull masked form of the Daedric prince Hircine, his bare arms crossed over his bare chest, his stag-like dappled legs spread a few inches apart, clearly showing that he believed he was dominate. The emotionless eyes of the prince gazed at her from behind his mask as he spoke. "I didn't expect to see you back here so soon after our last meeting."

Cry gazed straight ahead, facial expression flat as he circled her. "The pain only exists here."

The Daedra chuckled quietly at this as he moved around to the front of her, his form now that of a young buck. "Do you think I don't know that? How else would I get you back here to fight me again?" he muses.

Cry merely blinks, no emotion showing through as he changed into the form of a sabre cat, long fangs hanging over his jaw as he came towards her, the same soulless, gray eyes fixated on the Harbinger before him, willing her expression to change. It didn't however, and Hircine snorted as he stalked away. "You were such a beautiful wolf, Cry. Why would you give it up?"

"I don't worship Daedra," is her simple response, and Hircine chuckles once again, converting back to his masked human shape. He approached her again and allows a hand to stroke the Companion's cheek.

It took all of Cry's willpower not to flinch at the prince's touch, but she pushed herself to maintain her poker face. "Then who do you worship, _dragon_?" The last word leaves the Daedra as a snarl, and his hand withdrew as he walked away, the wolf form returning. "Shor? Ysgramor? Or, perhaps, you aren't religious."

"That is no concern of yours," she states, and the wolf rounds on her, shaping swiftly into a dragon, his large head and two rows of sharp teeth extremely close to her face.

"It _is_ my concern, love. You were once my child, as were most of whom are fighting against me."

The dragon sighs and backs away to morph once more into a deer. He trots around her briefly, appearing before her as the masked man once again. "Damn Kodlak Whitemane for turning so many of my own against me."

"He was only doing what was right," she answers, and the soulless gray eyes fix on her.

"What of Vilkas and Farkas, hmm? Would they be willing to fight against me for their old Harbinger? Perhaps I should pay them a visit to see," he purrs, and Cry flinches inwardly at the mention of the twins' names.

"If you lay a finger on either of them, I will personally see your soul sucked into Oblivion," she growls, but kept her face straight all the same.

Hircine waves his hand dismissively. "Empty threats, love." He sighs and glances at the ground. "I suppose it's time you return to Nirn. Will I see you again sometime soon?"

"Perhaps," Cry responds, and Hircine blinks once.

"I look forward to it."

The red forest disappears, as does the Daedric prince, and Cry opens her eyes to find that she was lying on her bed in Jorrvaskr. Every single part of her body was tense, as though she had been holding still in her sleep as she had been before Hircine, and she sighs, allowing her muscles to relax.

She slowly lifts one arm, and then the other, looking at the bare skin on her form arms for the cuts she had received in the forest. She then lifted the blanket slightly so she could look at her legs, praying to the Divines that the bite she had received was gone.

It was, and Cry lets out a slow breath of relief, and then lowers the blanket, turning onto her side, her eyes fixing on the form in the bed beside her. She smiles slightly at the sight of Vilkas' calm face, unruffled in his sleep from the responsibilities he had during the day.

Gingerly, Cry reaches forward to move a strand of black hair from his face, not wanting to disturb him. She tucked it gently behind his ear, drawing her hand back. For a moment, he remained still, and she thought she had been successful, but then the Companion stirred, his eyelids fluttering and then opening fully. He blinked a few times and then yawned before his eyes finally focused on her, and a light grin touched his lips.

"Good morning, love."

She blinked as she remembered Hircine calling her the same thing, but all the same, she smiled as well and stretched her neck forward so she could give him a kiss. "Morning."

Vilkas stretched one arm up over her head and yawned again before his arm fell to the bed once more, jumping up a bit as it landed. "Did you sleep well?" he asks.

Cry was about to respond, but she decided against revealing her dream and remained silent, knowing it would only worry him.

Her silence must have told Vilkas something, for he blinked at her and then propped himself up on his elbow, head in his hand. "What happened?" he asks seriously, and she sighs, rolling over onto her opposite side so she was facing away from him.

"Nothing. I just had another dream, that's all," she reveals quietly.

Vilkas knew what she meant immediately, and he slid closer to her, putting a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks quietly, and she shakes her head.

Vilkas, knowing when to drop a subject, rubbed her shoulder once more before he kissed it briefly. "You can tell me anything, you know."

When she nods in response, he sits up and slings his legs over the side of the bed. Running a hand over his face, Vilkas glances over his shoulder before standing to get dressed.

Cry didn't roll back over even when the leather pants he slept in fell to the floor, indicating that he was naked except for his undergarments. There was definitely something on her mind.

Vilkas wasn't sure whether he should question her once more, and he pulled on a daytime robe before moving to her side of the bed and sitting down beside her, one hand stroking her hair.

Cry's blue-gray eyes were fixed on the wall across from her, but when she felt Vilkas' hand on her hair, she glanced at him, forcing a smile. "I'm fine. Seriously."

Her husband wasn't convinced by her empty promise, but he dips his head in acceptance and then heads for the door. "I'm going to go get breakfast. See you upstairs?" he asks, and Cry nods again, sitting up for emphasis. Vilkas smiles at her and then leaves the room.

Cry sighs, a hand running through her hair momentarily, and she withdraws it when her fingers get caught in the tangles. _Please, don't let him get drawn into it. Don't let it happen to either of them._

Cry walked up the stairs, fresh and dressed in a simple blue dress. She headed over to where Vilkas was sitting and gave him a kiss before she sat down beside him, as was the daily ritual between the two.

One part was missing, however, and Cry gazed around the mead hall for the burly Companion that was supposed to make a disgusted noise as they kissed. "Where's Farkas?" she asks, and Aela looks up from her plate of potatoes and eggs.

"I think he's still asleep. Wouldn't wake up no matter what I did to him."

Cry stiffens at this news, and Vilkas looks at her worriedly. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm going to go check on him," she says, standing up once more and hurrying for the living quarter stairs. Vilkas watches her go, and then looks at the huntress sitting down the table from him.

"What do you know about this?" he questions, and Aela shrugs.

"I don't know anything. I only said he was still asleep." Vilkas sighs and then stands up as well to follow his wife down to the living quarters. "Where are you going?" Aela asks.

"To check on my brother," he answers as he walks down the stairs.

Cry was already at Farkas' bedroom, and was crouching beside the Companion's bed, one hand shaking his bare shoulder. "Farkas, you need to wake up!"

His eyelids were twitching, and every few seconds he would shudder or flinch, and then let out a small whimper. Now Cry was starting to get worried, and she shakes his shoulder harder. "Farkas!"

Vilkas appeared in the door way, and when he saw his brother flinch, he hurried over to join his wife beside the bed. "Farkas? Brother, wake up."

Farkas doesn't respond to the shove his brother gave him, and instead merely whimpers again and then rolls over. "Farkas!" Cry yells in an attempt to wake him up, as well as in a cry of panic. The fast asleep Companion didn't respond, and Cry puts a hand to her mouth to hold back a sob that had worked its way up inside of her.

Vilkas, however, refused to accept the fact that his brother wasn't going to wake up from his dark dream, and he furiously shook Farkas' shoulders, even rolling him over onto his back so he could slap his cheeks. "Farkas!"

"Vilkas!" Cry had to yank the Companion away from his twin and she pulled him to her and closed him into a hug. She gazed at Farkas from over Vilkas' head, who had his face buried into her chest. The Companion on the bed twitched again, and Cry silently cursed Hircine for doing this to her friend, as well as to her husband.

_I will kill you. One way, or another._

She heard a quiet chuckled beside her ear, and she felt hands grip her shoulders. _I look forward to it._

* * *

**Ah, Hircine's a dick! Good! **

**Poor Farkas. I hope he doesn't get hurt. **

**Anyway, I'm sorry for being gone for however long it's been. I've been focusing on school and the real book I'm writing. As you can tell, it hasn't really left me any time to write FanFictional type things, so...**

**Yeh.**

**Hopefully, I'll be able to stick around for a bit before I have to return to focusing on school. **

**Maybe.**

**We'll see!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Yay! I love you people! Thank you for the lovely "welcome back" and "I love this story" or whatever it was! Makes me very happy to see I was missed. **

**Second chapter, and y'all may not get one tomorrow, because I'm starting this online school thing that I'll need to focus on, so, yeah! Just a prewarning!**

* * *

Vilkas' mouth opened in a wide yawn, and Cry silently passed him a tankard of ale, hoping that it would be enough to keep him awake. He takes a half-hearted drink as he gazes at her over the rim of the cup. She watched him, waiting for him to say whatever was on his mind.

"I need to go," he finally begs, and Cry immediately shakes her head.

"I'm not going to lose you, too. I'll force you to stay away by freezing you, if I have too. I do know a Shout for that," she tells him. He sighs and puts the tankard down on the table, giving her the chance to take Vilkas' hands in her own. "Listen, I'm going to go and try to find him, see if I can convince him to wake up in his dream."

Vilkas gazes down at their hands, which were clasped together on the mead hall table. "This is my fault, isn't it? I told him to wait to start traveling to the Tomb until today. If you two had started going, this wouldn't have happened."

"See, that's where you're wrong," Cry replies, and Vilkas glances at her. "We would have stopped to make camp before we made it to the Tomb of Ysgramor, anyway. He would have slept then. It was inevitable."

Farkas and Cry had been making plans to travel to the Tomb to throw a Glenmoril Witch head into the Harbinger's Flame to rid Farkas of his own wolf spirit. Vilkas had convinced the two to wait, and stay in Whiterun until the next day. Farkas had been pulled into the fight by Hircine during the night.

Cry slams her fist down on the wood. "That damn Daedra! He threatened me, too. He practically told me he was going to drag the two of you into the battle." She shakes her head angrily. "Little did I know he already had one of you."

The Harbinger of the Companions looks at her husband, who was watching her as she spoke. She smiles sadly. "I'm going to get him back. Farkas is going to come back."

"I know. I just hope Hircine doesn't ask for anything in exchange," Vilkas says.

"Oh, I'm pretty positive he will. He'll probably ask me to call off the hunt against him and his pack of dogs." Cry snorts. "Too bad that's not up to me to decide."

Vilkas tilts his head thoughtfully. "Perhaps you should talk too whose decision matters the most."

"Kodlak? I haven't seen him once," she says, and the Companion sitting beside her at the table sighs, thinking.

"Maybe he's wherever the thick of the battle is happening."

"It's not like that in the hunting grounds, Vilkas. The wolves corner the humans in the woods, and attack us singly. There is no group battle; it's one on one, sometimes even one on five. Or more," she tells him, shuddering when she remembered being attacked by seven of Hircine's wolves at once. The only thing that stopped them was the Shout she had learned in Dustman's Cairn, _Yol Toor Shol_.

The more she killed, however, the more Hircine seemed to create. And who knew which ones were spirits, and which ones were actual humans who lived in Tamriel?

She growls in the back of her throat. One of them was Farkas, and she intended to get that one back.

Determined, she leans forward to give Vilkas a kiss before she stands up. "Don't you fall asleep," she warns, and he nods.

"I'll do my best."

"I suppose that's all I can ask for," Cry responds, and then heads down to the living quarters to go to sleep. Vilkas sighs and rubs his face with his hand, and then slaps himself on the cheeks.

Suddenly, he gets an idea. "Tilma, do we have any cold water?"

(*)

Cry sneaks into Farkas' bedroom dressed in her night clothes, shutting the door loudly to see if it would arose the sleeping Nord, which of course, it didn't. She gazes down worriedly at the burly Companion, who was tangled in his sheets and was letting out a small whimper every few seconds. He was sweating, and his face was contorted with a mixture of emotions: anger, pain, and even something close to pure rage.

She bites her lip and wipes his face down with a wash cloth Tilma had brought into the room for that very purpose. "Don't worry, Farky Fru. I'll get you out of this. Somehow," she says quietly, laying down the bedroll she had brought with her into the bedroom on the floor at the end of his bed and laying down on it. She closes her eyes and practices the breathing exercises the Greybeards had taught her to help get in meditation.

Soon, she was fast asleep, and put into the same red forest as the night before, equipped with her scaled armor and Skyforge great-sword. On instinct, she reaches on her back to grab the hilt of her weapon, and she pulls it out in front of her, eyes darting around the forest.

"Where do you have him?" she growls, knowing that the Daedric prince was watching her.

Almost like she was falling asleep again, Cry was teleported to a different area of the woods, this time in a small clearing. She heard snarling and a shout of panic that was silenced almost immediately as a wolf presumably tore the human's throat out. She flinches when she realizes that the human was most likely one of the Companion's previous Harbingers, and prayed to Talos it wasn't Kodlak.

"Kodlak is off fighting somewhere else, little one." A familiar voice drew her attention to the other end of the clearing, and the Daedra himself appeared in his wolf form. She immediately fixed a poker face on and gazed straight ahead as Hircine approached her, morphing into his human form, skull mask on. "Though, he's not why you're here, is he?"

"Where's Farkas?" she asks, her voice a hiss. She imagined the Daedric prince's lips curling into a smile behind his stag-mask.

"Living up to my expectations, as I asked of him."

"You didn't ask him anything!" Cry yells, and his head tilts.

"What makes you so sure?"

"Farkas wouldn't do anything for you. He wanted to be cured! We were going to go do that when we both woke up. But we didn't both wake up, because of you, you stupid, smelly, disgusting… DOG!" she screams.

Hircine's formed changed to a sabre cat, and he closed the short distance between her and him, his muzzle right in her face. "He belongs to me!"

"He doesn't belong to anyone!"

"As long as he's a wolf, he's belongs to me, and therefore, I will use him anyway I want!" Hircine growls.

Cry glares at him. "Why don't you just kill me, then? If you kill me, you won't be bothered about him anymore."

"Don't you understand, you stupid human? I _need_ you alive," Hircine replies.

"Why?"

"Because you're the most valuable human in the world! Half dragon, and half human! Imagine if you were to put a wolf in there as well! All the power you would possess…" The prince backs away, changing back into his human form. He walks around her, and places his hands on her shoulders. Cry holds back a shudder that threatens to run through her at his touch. "Tell me, Cry. Is there any reason why you don't wish to be a wolf?"

"I despise you," she says simply.

Hircine chuckles at this response, tightening his grip on her shoulders. "That's too bad. Because… I would be willing to trade."

Cry glances at the ground as she thinks about this, a stone dropping into her stomach. "A trade?" she finally asks.

"Yes, a trade. You, for him," Hircine purrs, pushing Cry through the trees to a larger clearing. A man sent a big black wolf flying across the grass, and the wolf landed on its side with a whimper. Cry knew immediately who the wolf was, and she had to bite her lip to keep from screaming as the human stalked towards the fallen beast, who was struggling to get back on his paws.

"Help him," she begs quietly as the man raised his sword, about to dig it into the wolf.

Hircine mumbles something incoherent, and the wolf disappears, leaving a very angry human behind, who stomps away into the trees. "You see? Anything like that can happen when I'm not watching, and Farkas will be gone. But…" The Daedra turns Cry around so that she's facing him, and he puts a hand under her chin, lifting her head up. "You give yourself to me, and I'll let Farkas go. I'll leave Vilkas alone. All I need is your loyalty, little one, and every threat I have placed on your Companions' heads will disappear for good."

Cry swallows and glances back at the spot on the grass where the wolf form of Farkas had just been lying. The grass was tinted a darker red than the rest of the forest, and she realizes he had been bleeding. With a sigh, she bows her head and closes her eyes. "I will give myself to you if you swear on your own life that you will leave Vilkas and Farkas and any other alive humans who have the Beast blood alone. For good."

She knew he was smiling, and Hircine dips his head before his hands run down her arms to take hers. He lifts her arm and cuts open her skin with a fingernail, and she sucks in a breath of pain as a trail of blood comes from the wound. The Daedra wipes at the red with his finger, which he then licks to clean the blood off.

"Now, for the second part," he says, and then cuts open his own arm. He lets the blood from his wound trickle into the cut on her arm. When they had watched the blood transfer for a few minutes, Hircine closes up his cut by running a hand over it and murmuring a spell. He then does the same to Cry's cut, before he lifts her hand up. His form changes into a different human, most likely the one that the wolf had killed only a few minutes before, and he kisses her skin softly.

"It's nice to have you back, Dragonborn," he purrs, and then the Daedric prince disappears from view. His voice echoes around her as the Harbinger of the Companions drops to her knees, fingers running over the newly formed scar on her forearm. "I'll see you soon, love."

* * *

**Fucking creeper, man! Only Vilkas is allowed to call Cry love. That's just how it is.**

**Hope you guys enjoyed, and I'll see you in two days. (Maybe)**

**:]**


	3. Chapter 3

**You wanna know what I hate? I hate how you have like five pages written on a Word document, and yet it's only like 1,400 words. You're like: "I thought I wrote a lot. I thought I was good", only you're not, really. **

**CHANGE YOUR FONT SIZE. **

* * *

Farkas awoke in his bed with a start, almost as though someone had dropped him onto the mattress. He groans, rubbing at his forehead with one hand before he untangles himself from his sheets and swings his legs over the side of the bed to the wood floor, elbows on his knees as he tries to clear his thoughts.

He heard a groan, and his head jerks upright. The Nord gazes around his room, searching for the source, until he notices Cry sleeping on a bedroll on the floor at the foot of his bed. She was blinking open her eyes, and her mouth opens in a yawn before her gaze rests on the Companion that was looking at her from over the foot board on his bed.

"Thank Talos you're awake!" she exclaims, scrambling up to give him a hug.

"So it wasn't a dream," Farkas breaths, his voice barely a whisper. Cry shakes her head as she pulls back from their hug, sniffling. Farkas gazes at her worriedly as a tear rolls down her cheek and falls off of her chin. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm just glad you're okay," she gasps out before she dusts away the tears forming in her eyes. "I have to check on Vilkas!"

She hurries from the room, Farkas following her more slowly, but still in a rush to see if his brother was alright. They burst into the sitting room of the Harbinger's bedroom to see a brass tub sitting in the center. Vilkas sat inside of it, his teeth chattering. Cry blinks at this image, and Farkas retreats from the room when he realizes his twin was naked. "Why are you sitting in ice cold water?" she asks.

Vilkas glances at her. "B-Because I w-wanted t-to stay aw-wake. I f-figured th-that cold w-water would w-work," he says between shivers. Cry hurries over to the tub and grabs the robe waiting for him beside it before she helps the Companion out of the water and wraps him up in the robe, walking him over to the bed in the other room and laying him down, covering him in blankets.

Vilkas lets out a sigh of contentment, and then his eyes fix on a scar on her forearm. "What in Ysgramor's beard is that?" he demands, and Cry's gaze follows his own before her blue-gray eyes widen and she slaps a hand down over the scar.

"It's nothing," she mutters, putting the arm with the scar behind her back. Vilkas narrows his eyes and furrows his brow.

"What happened?"

"I don't want to tell you. You'll get angry," Cry replies quietly.

"Love," Vilkas persists, and Cry visibly shudders at the word. Now Vilkas was extremely concerned. He abandons the blankets and slides beside her on the bed. "What happened to you?"

Cry's heart ached as she gazed at him. She wanted so much to say something, but she didn't know how Hircine would react if she told anyone what had happened, and so she merely shook her head and whispered, "I can't."

Vilkas studied her steadily for a long while, and she could read the hurt written in his eyes. Finally, he scoots away from her and stands up, putting his robe on properly. "Fine. You don't have to tell me."

She stands up after him, holding out her hand. "Vilkas, I'm sorry. I don't know what will happen if I do."

"It's alright. I understand," he says, not turning around as he pulls on underwear and then leather pants. Cry watches him, head tilted.

"You do?"

Vilkas glances at her over his shoulder at her as he pulls on a shirt. "Yeah, definitely. I understand you don't trust me enough to tell me. It's fine. Serious." He then shoulders past her out of the room and doesn't turn back around.

"Vilkas!" Cry calls, but he doesn't come back, or even acknowledge her, and she sighs in desperation, before she stomps her foot angrily. "Fine! Be like that, you… you… you man!" she yells, and then slams the doors to the sitting room area of her bedroom, leaning back against them as tears begin to fall down her cheeks.

Hurriedly, she wipes them away and storms away from the door and begins to pace around the still-filled tub in the center of the room. Anger pulsates through her veins and she almost kicks over the tub but stops herself just in time and instead kicks the wall instead. A dull pain enters her foot, but disappears almost immediately thanks to the intensified healing of the Beast blood inside of her, and she sits down on the floor, breathing heavily.

"This is all your fault," she hisses to the unseen presence in the room.

_My fault? It was your decision, love,_ Hircine's voice responds.

"Don't call me that," Cry growls, and the Daedric prince chuckles. The Companion stiffens when she feels fingers against her back, which she straightens in an effort to brush the feeling away. "Get away from me," she commands.

_Not possible, little one. We're connected now, you and I. You have me inside of you._ _You belong to me now._

"I don't belong to anyone," Cry growls before she quickly changes into her armor that was waiting on the table at the foot of her bed. Making sure to pick up her sword, she slides the sheath over her shoulders before she picks up her backpack and hurries out of her bedroom and down the hall towards the stairs.

She passed Athis and Torvar, who were exchanging words at the end of the hallway. "Where are you going, Harbinger?" Athis asks, and Cry stops mid-step.

Knowing that she couldn't tell them the truth, she says, "I'm just going to go on a trip. If anyone asks, I'm in Dawnstar." Then she slips up the stairs and out of Jorrvaskr, leaving a confused Dunmer and Nord behind her.

_Dawnstar? Oh, Cry, I hope you're not thinking what I think you are,_ Hircine says.

"I think you know exactly what I'm doing," she growls, walking past the Temple of Kynareth towards the gates of Whiterun.

_What about our exchange, Dragonborn? You for your Companions? _Cry pauses, waiting for him to continue. _Do you think that I will stick to my word if you don't stick to yours? Clearly you've never dealt with a Daedra before. _

"You would take them," she murmurs.

_She's a genius!_ Hircine muses sarcastically.

Cry growls in the back of her throat. She couldn't cure herself. There was nothing for her to do except keep the wolf inside of her, to keep Vilkas and Farkas safe. _Now you understand,_ the Daedra beside her purrs quietly. Cry feels fingers ghost over the scar on her forearm, which was hanging rigidly by her side. On instinct, she jerks her arm up and covers the scar with her other hand, thumb rubbing against it as it began to throb.

_You see? There is no winning for you in this situation, little one. You're mine now. _

Cry's heart began to speed up, and she felt her blood boil. _I can make you transform whenever I want, and there is _nothing_ you can do about it. _

The Harbinger's blood pounded in her ears, and her body shuddered. She knew she needed to get out of Whiterun, and fast.

Without glancing back at Jorrvaskr, she raced towards the gates of Whiterun, just missing Vilkas as he came out of the mead hall.

His gray eyes followed her as she ran out of the Cloud District, and realization dawned on him. "No…"

"Vilkas?" He turned to see Aela come out of Jorrvaskr, a question on her face. "What's going on?"

"I-I think Cry gave herself up to Hircine to get Farkas back," Vilkas replies quietly, knowing that's what the scar on her arm had been from. He suddenly felt extremely bad for giving her the cold shoulder when she didn't tell him, and he hung his head. "I can't believe she did that."

"Are you that surprised?" Aela asks, and Vilkas looks up to see the huntress had crossed her arms. She shrugged and leaned back against the doors. "Farkas is her best friend, and her brother-in-law. She would do anything for him."

"I-"

"What's going on out here?" Farkas asks, coming around the side of Jorrvaskr, having come out the back door. He glances from Vilkas to Aela, and then back again. "Did you figure out where Cry was going?"

Vilkas and Aela exchange a look, and then Vilkas' hand goes to the hilt of the sword on his hip, which he had put on in case he had to go after her. He guessed he had too, now. "No, I didn't. But I'm going to go find out. I'll be back soon."

Without waiting for a response from either of them, Vilkas heads towards the gates of Whiterun, prepared to not come back without his wife, one way or another. Farkas and Aela watched him go, and then the male Companion glanced at his Shield-Sister. "What's going on?"

"That's for Cry to tell you, Brother," Aela responds, pulling open the door to Jorrvaskr and disappearing inside.

* * *

**Oh God! Will Vilkas find Cry? **

***shrug* I don't know.**

**For my online class, I have to write a personal narrative about a life changing experience that I've had. **

***thinks for a moment* I don't know, honestly. I don't think I've ever really had a life changing experience before. I'll probably have to make something up, huh? *winks* Good thing I'm a writer!  
**

**:]**


	4. Chapter 4

**I also hate baseball cards. Just throwing that out there.**

* * *

Vilkas followed Cry's scent into the woods leading away from Whiterun into Falkreath. About halfway, her smell changed from the normal mountain flower mixed with sweet rolls scent to a wet dog smell, mingled with the stench of fear and anger.

Vilkas had to stop to find her trail when he reached the tree line, where he found her discarded backpack and sword, as well as her armor. He grinned a bit, shaking his head. Of course Cry would take off her armor first. It was her prized possession, next to her great-sword.

He picked everything up and continued on, following the dog smell further into the trees until he heard a soft moaning coming from somewhere. "Cry!" Vilkas yells, not really expecting a reply.

He didn't get one, and he relies on his senses to lead him to her. Eventually, he finds his wife lying in a clearing, a dead elk beside her. She was naked, and undergrowth was sticking to her sweaty skin. Her face was contorted in pain, and Vilkas' heart breaks right away, knowing exactly how Cry felt. "Oh, love," he breathes, crouching down beside her.

He removes his shirt and slips it over her, leaving himself bare chested. He didn't care, though, and he put her bag down to look inside to see if there was better cover for her. He sighs, sending a silent prayer of thanks to Ysgramor as he pulled her cloak from the sack and slipped it around her, wrapping her up tightly. "Why did you do this to yourself, darling?" he asks.

Cry whimpered quietly, and Vilkas shakes his head before sliding her armor into her bag. He slips her sword's sheath over his shoulders and then slides her bag up on to back before lifting Cry up off the ground in a baby hold and setting off back through the trees towards Whiterun.

(*)

Later, Cry was sitting in a tub filled with warm water, her head leaning back over the edge, her eyes closed. She was so embarrassed that Vilkas had found her the way she did. Her mind drifted to when she had realized she couldn't hold back the transformation any longer, and she had taken off her armor and left everything on the tree-line. She remembered how her skin had stretched, and everything had been on fire until she had killed and feasted.

After that, she didn't remember much, only that she had transformed back and then collapsed beside her kill. She had woken up in her bed at Jorrvaskr with Vilkas gazing down at her worriedly while Tilma was wetting a washcloth in a bucket of water. When her eyes had opened, Vilkas had let out a sigh of relief and arranged with Tilma for a bath to be poured.

So that's what Cry was doing. She was taking a bath in the same tub Vilkas had been using to stay awake, almost falling asleep where she was from the warm water that swirled around her. The only thing that kept her awake was the bottle of mead that rested on a table beside her, and she picked it up and took a drink before she could fall asleep.

Sighing, she puts it back down and decides she might as well clean herself. She halfheartedly picked up a cloth from the table, as well as a bar of soap, and began scrubbing the dirt off of her skin.

She paused mid-scrub when there was a knock on her bedroom door, which had been closed for privacy. "Who is it?" she asks.

"It's Vilkas. I'm just making sure you're doing okay."

Cry splashed at the water in response, and one of the double doors opened slightly. Vilkas stuck his head through the crack and looked at her. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she replies quietly, and Vilkas sighs, opening the door a bit wider so he could get into the room fully before shutting it again and walking over to the tub. Silently, Cry passes him the soap and cloth, and then leans forward so that he could wash her back. "I'm sorry," she finally says when quiet had rested over them for several minutes.

"You don't need to be sorry. You did it to save my brother," Vilkas says, running the cloth over her shoulders and across her neck.

"Yes, that's true. But I didn't do it just for him. I did it for you, too. I should have just told you."

"I've been thinking, love. Maybe there's a way to get past this," Vilkas tells her, and Cry glances at him over her shoulder.

"What do you mean?" she questions.

"I mean that there may be a way to be done with Hircine's threat for good."

"But what? What could we possibly do to get rid of him? He's a Daedric Prince!"

"But we're the Companions," Vilkas responds.

"As nice as that is, I don't think we stand much chance against a God of sorts," Cry says, facing forward once more. Vilkas moved the cloth to her other shoulder and began to scrub it.

"All I'm saying is that there's a way, thanks to a previous Harbinger of ours, who figured out how to solve our issue."

Cry's brow furrows as she thinks about this, trying to understand what he was talking about. Suddenly, it dawns on her. "Kodlak! Right! But how would we be able to…?"

"We'd just have to go as fast as we could, and not stop for camp. Werewolves don't need sleep, anyway," Vilkas points out.

Cry opened her mouth to argue, but closed it a moment later, realizing she couldn't. Vilkas was right; as werewolves, she, Vilkas, and Farkas could live without sleep. They would just have to resist stopping to rest, and go straight to the Tomb.

Vilkas notices that she had realized he was right, and he says, "So, we can go."

"But…" Cry trails off, not sure if she wanted to tell him. Vilkas' hand stops moving, and she can feel the cloth pause on her neck. "I don't know if I'll be able to control my transformations. I know I won't be able too, actually. When I transform, it's all Hircine, and too keep us from going, who knows how many times he'll make me change?" She sighs and shakes her head sadly. "I can't accompany you two, Vilkas. It's too risky."

Vilkas had stiffened at this news. Cry waited for the explosion, but it didn't come, instead, Vilkas calmly continues to clean her back as he says, "I understand. But I don't know if I want to leave you alone here while Farkas and I go. Will you promise me you'll stay safe, as best as you can?"

Cry thought she could faintly hear a wolf howling in the back of her head, where she had previously imagined shoving the beast-like instincts earlier that day, after Vilkas had found her in the woods. Quickly, she muffled the thought and nodded wearily.

"I'll do my best, Vilkas. Not sure what my _best_ is right now, but I'll certainly try."

"And what about after? When Farkas and I are clean?" he queries.

Cry gazes down at the murky bathwater, now clouded from the dirt Vilkas was scrubbing off of her. She merely splashes at it in response to his question, and her husband sighs. "Right," he grunts.

Cry twists her head around so she could look at him, reaching up to stroke his cheek with her hand. He looked back at her, his gray eyes tired and sleepless. Even though he didn't need to sleep, Vilkas was still immensely tired, and he needed a nap or something of the sorts. "Vilkas…" she begins, but he shakes his head, kissing her forehead.

"I'm fine, love. Truthfully. You need to be thinking about yourself," he insists. Cry had once again flinched at the word, and silently cursed Hircine for making her feel that way.

"I'm going to try. Honest," she assures. _I will try, but I don't know if I'm going to succeed._

_I don't know if I _can_ succeed._

* * *

**Short chapters. Yep. I wasn't really sure why the hell I had them discuss this while Cry was in the bathtub, but eh. That's just me, I guess.  
**

**Also, I've decided to write about how I got over my stage fright for the first time as my personal narrative. We have to get rid of dead verbs. Did you guys know "was" is a verb?**

**I had no freakin' clue.**


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